


Learning to Breathe

by dreamingoutloud



Series: Flawed-The Enjolras/Grantaire Song Fic Collection [9]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Adoption, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Parenthood, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:12:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4735469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingoutloud/pseuds/dreamingoutloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they got married, Grantaire thought that was all they needed.  Each other.  It turns out that Enjolras wants more for their future, and Grantaire isn't sure that's something he's ready for.  It takes some patience and a lot of careful thought for him to give Enjolras the family he's always longed for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning to Breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elliebeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliebeth/gifts).



> It's taken me a while, but a chat with my elliebeth sparked the urge to do this one. 
> 
> For the song this time, I chose Learning to Breathe by Switchfoot. Which I realize is about a spiritual relationship not an earthly one but...deal with it?
> 
> "Hello, good morning, how you do?  
> What makes your rising sun so new?  
> I could use a fresh beginning too  
> All of my regrets are nothing new  
> So this is the way that I say I need you  
> This is the way that I'm learning to breathe  
> Learning to crawl  
> I'm finding that you and you alone can break my fall."

“The hell is this?”

Enjolras glanced up from his notes, a copy of law in 19th century Paris sitting in front of him. When he saw the pamphlet in Grantaire’s hand, his heart sunk a little. This wasn’t exactly the way he’d wanted to have this conversation. It also wasn’t the time to have it. There were a million things to do and this was definitely going to take longer than he wanted. And the expression currently on his husband’s face told him the answer to his proposal wasn’t going to go over well and they were likely to end this talk in a bad mood no matter what.

So the look he gave was detached and disinterested. “Looks like a brochure to me.” He looked away before he could watch Grantaire’s face settle into something he wouldn’t want to see. Something that was going to break his heart.

”A brochure,” Grantaire agreed. “On adoption. Were you planning on bringing this up any time soon?”

For a long moment, he simply looked down at the paper in front of him. The words weren’t obvious. He was merely trying to gather his thoughts, his emotions. He’d come a long way over the last few years learning to control his temper. And blowing up at the man wasn’t going to help him any. “I was,” he said simply, finally looking up into those piercing blue eyes. “When I thought the time was right.”

Grantaire scoffed, tossing the paper on to the bed. “The time wouldn’t ever be right, Apollo, and you know that.”

There it was. The denial. “Why?” 

Grantaire’s mouth opened, like he was ready to fire off a barrage of protests. To Enjolras’ surprise, however, he shut it again and simply sat on the edge of the bed nearest to Enjolras’ desk. “I can’t be a parent,” he finally murmured, looking up at him, misery in his eyes. “What sort of role model would I be, hmm? Lazy, recovering alcoholic, no drive, no ambition.” 

All the years they’d been together and he still couldn’t see himself the way Enjolras saw him. “That isn’t true,” he protested, leaning over to rest a hand on Grantaire’s knee. “You’re a talented man, a skilled artist, and the important part of what you just said? You’re a _recovering_ alcoholic. You’re beating this every day. If that’s not an inspiration to a kid, I don’t know what would be.”

The laugh he received in return was more of a snort. “I don’t know, never getting myself in that situation to begin with? Apollo, we can’t have kids. That’s my final say in the matter.”

Enjolras leaned back in his desk chair, frustration evident on his face. “Seriously? That’s your final say? We can’t even consider this?”

”I didn’t even know you wanted kids,” Grantaire protested. “Isn’t that something you maybe should have brought up long ago? Like, I don’t know, before we got married?”

Hesitating, Enjolras paused to consider. “I told you I wanted a family with you. Before I ever even proposed, I told you that.” He hadn’t ever said, ‘hey someday let’s adopt a baby or two’. But he would have thought it was obvious that’s what he’d meant. Or a surrogate, if that’s what Grantaire preferred. “You didn’t think I meant a cat or something, did you?” 

The dark haired man’s face fell. “I rather thought you meant me. Us. I didn’t realize you wanted even more of...us.”

Enjolras was never as good at hiding his emotions as Grantaire was. He’d never mastered the poker face that had kept Grantaire’s feelings for him hidden for years. Passion ran through him with an almost violent edge and it showed in everything he did. He froze, knowing he’d hurt the man he loved but unable to stop it. They’d never discussed this in length, but he’d always held out hope. Always dreamed of holding a baby they could call theirs. Or, more importantly to him, watching Grantaire do so. 

He got to his feet, gathering his notes. “Where are you going?” Grantaire asked, the surprise evident in his voice. And it was reasonable to be surprised. It wasn’t like the politician to walk out in the middle of an argument. 

“My office.”

”It’s ten at night,” Grantaire protested, getting to his own feet as if to stop his husband.

Enjolras swallowed his pride and turned around. “I’m not fighting with you about this. But I don’t particularly want to sit here and dwell on it, either. I think I need to be alone right now.”

There was a look of fear on Grantaire’s face, but he wiped it down with annoyance quickly. Yet Enjolras had grown far more observant over the years and he wasn’t going to miss it. “You’re not... I mean, when are you coming home?”

”No, Taire,” he said softly. “I’m not leaving for good. I’ll be home in the morning. I just can’t do this with you right now.”

It was hours later when he returned. Stripping down to his shorts, he climbed under the blankets, nestling into that warm place at Grantaire’s back. His partner was a light sleeper as it was, if he’d even been asleep at all, and he turned over, nuzzling into Enjolras’ arms. “It’s three in the morning,” he murmured, though his voice didn’t sound accusing. Just tired.

Enjolras nodded, putting his thoughts together before answering. Blurting things out was his usual response, and it harmed him more often than helped. No, he couldn’t do that. He didn’t walk away from that fight just to get into another in the middle of the night. “I know. I’m sorry I left.” His eyes closed, breathing in the soft fruit scent of Grantaire’s shampoo. He really did love this man. It wouldn’t hurt him so much if he didn’t. 

“I just can’t be a dad, Enj,” Grantaire protested, his words muffled into Enjolras’ chest. “I can’t.”

The pleading in his voice tore at his heart, but what else could he say? No, it wasn’t okay. He wasn’t even giving the idea a chance. And that wasn’t fair. Not to either of them, not when Enjolras knew how happy their family could be. “I know, my angel. We’ll talk about it another time. Get some sleep, I’m sorry I woke you.”

***

The knock on the door nearly rattled him he was so engrossed in the business proposal he was writing. “Come in,” he called as he tapped out the last sentence and clicked save before glancing up. A look of surprise filled his face when he not only saw his husband, but Marius and Combeferre. “What are you guys all doing here?”

”I came to invite my husband to sneak away for lunch,” Grantaire began with a little smile. He had obviously been rattled by their argument, but he was holding up better now. “Turns out these three losers had the same idea.” 

“Three?” Enjolras asked, puzzled. Then Combeferre shifted and he could finally see the baby in Marius’ arms. “Luc!” he exclaimed, getting out of his chair so quickly he nearly pushed it into the wall behind him. The baby cooed and Enjolras moved towards his friend, snatching the infant up out of his arms. “Did you come to see Uncle Enj at work? You did? Aren’t I very lucky, then?”

Combeferre laughed and Marius merely smirked. “I can’t ever get used to hearing the leader of a political movement speaking baby talk. Are you cooing, Enjolras?” Combeferre teased, crossing his arms in front of him. At that, Marius’ smirk turned into a grin.

But a glance up at his husband showed Enjolras his husband was as white as a sheet. A more serious expression crossed his face and he straightened. “I most certainly am not,” he retorted, attempting to not look enchanted by a tiny baby boy. “You guys should have called first, I’m in the middle of--”

”A very serious something or other,” Grantaire interrupted, obviously making an effort to not look as shaken as he’d been. “I don’t care. Even if these guys do. You can’t live behind that desk, Apollo.”

A sheepish expression crossed Enjolras’ face. “I can, too? Maybe.”

In a display of how much fatherhood was changing him, Marius took the baby and held him up, speaking in his best baby voice. “Please come play with us, Uncle Enj!” Which, of course, cracked the whole group up. 

He’d be an idiot not to go. Grantaire was clearly willing to go with all of them. Including the baby. It was just so awkwardly timed considering their fight. Grabbing his coat from the rack near where his friends were standing, he shrugged into it. “Fine, fine. I suppose I can be pulled away for an hour or two. But you’re not allowed to gripe when I start talking about work.”

”He says, like we didn’t spend the majority of our university years making posterboard signs and writing letters to the editor for him,” Combeferre teased. And no one, least of all Grantaire, missed it when Enjolras reached out and carried the baby the rest of the way down to the car.

***

They were in the kitchen making dinner when he spoke up. He hadn’t even meant it to come out the way it did. He was simply draining the pasta into the colander when he said, “Fatherhood looks good on Marius. Looks like our little boy has really grown up.” 

Grantaire froze at his side, the shrimp he was stirring forgotten. “Oh, yeah?” Enjolras had known him most of his life. He knew that tone. That was Grantaire’s ‘I don’t really want to talk about this’ tone. Enjolras hadn’t even meant it in a way that was supposed to lead to talking about them. But since they were halfway there... He may as well.

“He just seems happy, is all. Some dads wouldn’t even take the baby without the mother being around, you know? It works on him.” He poured the pasta back into the pot and turned to lean against the counter, crossing his arms in front of himself. The posture wasn’t meant to be intimidating. This was only meant to be a casual discussion. But with his height and his natural stance, he knew he probably looked less than casual.

Already he could feel Grantaire putting his walls up. “Some dads. Marius isn’t them. And...” He hesitated, but Enjolras knew it was coming. “Neither am I.” 

Against his will, his eyes closed, as if blocking himself from the pain the words caused. It wasn’t intentional, and he knew it, but they hurt just the same. Maybe it was ridiculous. Maybe men weren’t supposed to feel that desperate need to hold a child and claim it as theirs. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to desperately want a son or daughter to call his own. And, more so, he wanted to see that baby in Grantaire’s arms. He wanted a family. Not just a baby of his own, but a baby with the man he loved. 

So it was very, very hesitantly that he began his sentence. “So...you’re more a dad like Marius, then?”

The glare he received was all the answer he really needed. “Honestly? What do you think?”

Well. The door was opened now. No reason to go back on it. “I think you’d be better. You’d be the fun dad. The one encouraging the kid to do whatever he wanted in life. I’d end up having to be the strict one and you two would gang up on me constantly.”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “And you think that’s healthy? To be the bad influence in our child’s life?”

”Did I say anything about a bad influence, Grantaire?” he snapped, leaning over to turn the heat off of the shrimp before they burned. He wasn’t going to have them wasting food just because they were fighting when people went without all over the world. “I think you’d be an incredible influence. I’ll probably be too stuffy, too follow the rules. You’ll be the reason our kid has a sense of adventure, of creativity. People need a blend of both. I think, between us, they’d get that.”

He hadn’t meant to snap, and he felt horrible, especially when the dark expression crossed his husband’s face. But to his surprise, Grantaire sighed and shook his head, moving to plate their dinner. “I don’t know, Enj. I haven’t seen myself as the type to be a parent in years.”

It wasn’t a direct ‘no’. It was less resistance than he’d gotten so far. It was worth a try. “Not since you started drinking,” he confirmed, and though Grantaire shot him a sharp look, he didn’t deny the accusation. “You’ve been clean for two years, Grantaire. You deserve a chance at happiness as much as anyone.”

”I am happy,” Grantaire protested, his head lowering so he was looking at the floor. “I have you.”

It was hard to argue with that, especially when the words were said in a tone so full of heartache that all he wanted to do was reach out, wrapping the man in his arms and never letting go. And he completed that in part, pulling Grantaire into his arms and holding him close. “You know how much I love you, don’t you? This isn’t something I want because I’m unhappy. I just think we could be even better as a trio.”

Grantaire nuzzled into him, his anger draining. Enjolras had to admit, he loved it when his husband got cuddly. It made him feel like maybe he was doing something right in this relationship. “I just don’t want some kid to be all messed up because he’s being raised by me. You, maybe. Me?” 

”Are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Enjolras concluded for him. “And the two of us could be the best thing that’s ever happened to a kid who needs a home.”

***

Enjolras had made it a point not to bring it up again. But he could tell his partner was thinking about it constantly. Anytime the group was around Marius and baby Luc. The one time Enjolras jumped up and volunteered to babysit for the couple so they could have a night out. Whenever they walked past a baby department at a store or even just a child in a stroller reaching a hand towards them. Still, Enjolras had sworn not to push and so far, he’d done a very good job of it. 

He’d turned off the television for the night, ready to head upstairs and join Grantaire, who’d apparently gone on ahead, when the dark haired man appeared in the doorway. Enjolras glanced up with a smile but his face fell slightly when he saw the serious expression on his husband’s face. “Are you okay?” he asked.

The only answer he received was silence, and Grantaire made his way closer, finally dropping to the sofa at Enjolras’ side. His expression grew even more puzzled until he realized what Grantaire was holding in his hands. The brochure that had started the fighting so many weeks ago. He felt his blood go cold, and he couldn’t help the shiver that went through him. Especially as Grantaire was still silent. He didn’t reach for him or even glance at him, he merely sat by his side, staring down at the image on the front of the packet. A couple stood, holding a toddler that was clearly from another country. They looked unreasonably happy. Considering the air of the room at that moment, Enjolras wasn’t sure the pair of them would ever look quite that happy.

But a moment later, Grantaire surprised him. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, looking up at Enjolras. “I can’t promise I’ll be perfect at this. I may not even be that good at it. And you’re going to have to be the one to make sure he eats his vegetables because we know I’ll barely even look at broccoli.”

For a long moment, Enjolras wasn’t even sure he’d heard correctly. He didn’t realize it, but he’d actually stopped breathing for a few seconds. He simply stared at the man he loved, the words taking their time to sink in. “What are you saying exactly?” he finally asked, not wanting to be wrong. Not wanting to assume and get his hopes up, just to have them dashed moments later. 

Grantaire closed his eyes for a second then looked back up, the piercing blue of them meeting Enjolras’. “I’m saying that if this is truly what you want... Then I do, too. So long as you’re okay with being the responsible parent.” ‘The good parent’ was unspoken, but Enjolras knew that’s what he was thinking, and he leaned over, kissing the man sweetly. “I’m guessing that’s a yes?” Grantaire murmured against his lips, but he was smiling. The only thing Enjolras loved more than kissing him was seeing him smile.

“Could be,” he teased gently, pulling back to look into his eyes and search them carefully. “You’re sure, Taire? I promised, I wouldn’t push this. I meant that. I don’t want to do this if it’s not what you’re ready for.”

The sigh he received in response was long and exaggerated. “I just said it was, didn’t I? Since when do you question my choices?”

Enjolras lifted his eyebrows, amusement evident on his face. “Since almost always?” he replied, sliding an arm around his husband and pulling him close. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

Nestling close enough to nuzzle his nose into the blond’s neck, Grantaire smiled. “You mention it once in a while. You should mention it often, actually. I like it. It’s going to be hard sharing you, I’m not going to lie.”

At that, Enjolras couldn’t help but grin. “I think you see enough of me as it is. We’re not getting less love here. Just spreading it out further is all.”

***

“She’s perfect,” Combeferre breathed, looking down into the face of his new goddaughter. Joly stood by his side, gingerly running a finger over the peach soft skin. Since theirs was hardly a traditional family, they’d foregone a godmother all together and their little girl had two already doting godfathers. Even if Joly was far too much like his best friend and insisted he had no idea what to do with a baby. Already he’d proven he was ready for the part as the child was wrapped in what Enjolras was fairly certain was the world’s softest blanket in the world’s prettiest shade of lavendar, courtesy of her Uncle Joly. 

Marius and Cosette stood nearby, Courf lingering, doing the whole ‘if I touch it I’ll break it’ argument. That was fine. Enjolras would get to him soon enough. He somehow always did. “What are you going to name her?” Joly asked, and Grantaire and Enjolras shared a smile. 

Though Grantaire’s smile did turn more mischievous than anything else. “Jolly,” he said simply, then burst out laughing at the expression on his friend’s face. “No, you weirdo. We’re going to call her Apolline.”

”He insisted,” Enjolras admitted, blushing furiously. “I was leaning towards Charlotte.”

The smile Grantaire gave was one of pure joy. “But I won. So she’s Apolline Minette and she’s perfect just the way she is, thank you.”

At that, no one had the heart to argue with him. Least of all the man who took the baby back into his arms and cradled her close. Combeferre just grinned. “Does that make her officially the daughter of Apollo?”

Enjolras blushed further, burying his face in his daughter’s stomach to hide. Grantaire, however, just smiled that much more brightly. “You know, I think maybe it does.”


End file.
